Two-wheeled wonder

I love getting out on my bike. As well as giving my lungs and legs a hearty workout, it's a chance to have a jolly good muse about things, while, at the same time, enjoying a front-row 'seat' at the latest seasonal show the countryside has to offer.
On today's outing (pictured here, courtesy of my cycling companion Mr CB), I was thinking about how nervous I was when I first told my loved ones I was considering entering the funeral business. For aside from the obvious images flooding into their minds of corpses and inconsolable relatives, was their knowledge that I am known (and, thankfully, loved) for being sensitive and, at times, prone to feeling a bit blue. They worried that my new career would have the same effect on me as Gwyneth Paltrow's Oscar did on her (ie. tear duct overload). And, I admit, I was worried too.
But, as my bicycle wheels turned, I realised that something strange, and rather wonderful has happened since I became aquainted with 'the dark side'. My life has brightened up. I've been so busy immersing myself in funerals and bereavement support, and writing my blog posts about how 'grief can provide opportunity', that I hadn't realised I've been undergoing my own transformation. I'm a happier person than I used to be. The heady cocktail that appears to have given me my new-found inner glow is, I think, made up of a measure of doing something I enjoy, a squeeze of making a difference to other people, and a splash of realising how death gives life meaning. Add a slice of fruit and a small umbrella, and the mix is complete. Although we can probably leave the small umbrella out – that small, grey cloud that hovered over my head seems to have disappeared for now. The outlook is dry and bright...